Marion of Sherwood
by Avalon Estel
Summary: Maid Marion's father, Lord Edward, wants her to marry the Sheriff of Nottingham. Obviously, Marion gets very mad. And she decides to do something about it. DISCONTINUED.
1. Marion's New Enemy

Marion of Sherwood

_By Avalon Estel_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood. He belongs to the wonderful English bards that sang about him, Howard Pyle, 'cuz he wrote about him, and whoever made the Prince of Thieves movie._

_THUMP!_

The arrow stuck in the tree trunk, an inch away from the target. Maid Marion nocked another arrow to her bow and pulled back the bowstring. Tighter, tighterâ€ The arrow flew from the bow with a whistling noise and –

_THUMP!_

"Yes!" she cried, jumping up in the air, heedless of her numerous skirts. The arrow had hit the target dead center.

Her lady-in-waiting, Lady Bridget, clapped vigorously and hopped up and down. "Wonderful, Lady, just wonderful!"

"Time for tea, Lady Marion!" came a call from one of the servants. Marion unstrung the arrow from her bow and returned it to the quiver that lay on the ground beside her. She and Bridget went into the castle.

"You get better and better with each practice," Bridget praised as they walked down the drafty stone corridor to Marion's room.

"Well, I could teach you, Bridget, if you wanted," Marion offered.

Bridget shook her head vigorously. "That's a man's sport. But if you want to learn it, more power to you. I have no wish to, Lady, with all due respect."

Marion shrugged. "That's fine."

While they drank and ate, a knock came at Marion's door.

"Yes?" she asked, standing.

"It's your father," replied the person on the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry, Papa!" she exclaimed. She hurried to the door and opened it. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, yes I do," the old lord replied. He looked worried.

"What's the matter?" Marion asked, concerned. "Come, sit with us and tell me what's ailing you."

Lord Edward entered the room behind his daughter, leaning heavily on his cane. He seated himself at her table. "Daughter, I have troubling news."

Marion didn't interrupt, but her eyebrows etched themselves into deep furrows.

"We are kin to King Henry, are we not?" Edward began. Marion nodded. "Well," the old man continued, "the Sheriff of Nottingham has threatened to take our lands if we don't give him what he asks."

"What does that have to do with our being related to the King?" Marion asked, confused. "And what does he ask?"

"There's the problem," said Edward. "He asks for your hand in marriage, and I wish not to give him that. You are my only child. Also, I know that you would never want to marry such a loathsome man. Not to mention, that would give him kinship to the King, though only through marriage. But I have no choice. If you do not marry him, we shall lose all we have strived to keep for centuries. I said you would."

Marion was horrified. Her hands flew together, and she clenched them so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "Papa, wh – How did this happen? When did you tell him that?"

"Yesterday," Edward replied.

Suddenly, a servant stopped outside Marion's open door. "My lord, the Sheriff's here to see you."

"I'm coming," Edward said. He rose from the table and walked from the room. Then, he stopped outside the door, his gray hair and clothes making him look very dismal. "I'm sorry, my dear. I had no choice."

Marion and Bridget were quiet for a long while. Then, the lady-in-waiting broke the silence. "What a terrible predicament!" she exclaimed. "What will you do?"

"I don't know," Marion said. "But whatever it is, it will not be marrying the Sheriff. In fact, I will go see for myself what he says." She rose from the table and put on her gold circlet, a symbol of nobility. "How do I look?"

"Wonderful, M'lady," Bridget said solemnly.

Marion hurried out of her room and down the long stone corridor, her long, billowing cape trailing after her. As she reached the staircase that led to the entrance hall of the castle, she stumbled, losing one of her shoes. Sighing, she caught her balance and gathered up her skirts, rushing after the shoe. It bounced down the stairs, making a thump every time it struck the cold stone.

When the shoe landed at the bottom of the stairs, it collided with a boot. A much larger boot. The Sheriff of Nottingham's boot, to be exact. He reached down and picked it up. "Is this yours, Lady Marion?" he asked. Marion didn't like his voice. It sounded oily and sarcastic.

"Yes, it is, Sheriff!" she replied, snatching it from him. She grabbed the banister of the stairs and hopped up and down on one foot, trying to put it back on. The Sheriff and Lord Edward stared in astonishment at the young woman, who was usually so proper, acting like a common peasant. While it didn't bother her, they were shocked at her behavior. When she'd succeeded in replacing it, she brushed down her skirt and the strands of hair that had escaped their elaborate twists.

"Marion, introduce yourself to the Sheriff," Lord Edward said.

Marion looked the Sheriff over. He was tall and very pale. His ebony hair hung in curls to his shoulders, and he was clad in black clothes embroidered with gold thread. His eyes were sharp and dark, and his nose was long and straight. Marion shivered inwardly at the thought of marrying him. Even if she hadn't known the treacherous things he'd done to the people of Nottingham, she would know that he was evil just by looking at him. "I should think he already knows who I am if he plans to marry me," she answered coldly.

The Sheriff's face suddenly took on a malicious look that lasted a split second, but she saw it. Then, he smirked. "Yes, you will make a very spirited wife. Your father and I were just about to begin discussing your dowry. I think that our marriage will bring forth many heirs."

"We shall see," Marion replied, narrowing her eyes at him. With that, she spun on her heel and walked regally up the stairs. When she got to the top, she ran off down the hall and back into her room.

"What happened, My Lady?" asked Bridget as soon as she entered the room.

"I simply refuse to marry that - that - _creature_!" Marion cried. "I don't know what I'll do yet, but I'm going to do _something_!"


	2. Marion's Plan

Oh, yay! Two reviews _IMMEDIATELY!!!_ I feel so loved! I want to thank Black Pixie and Mary Sue Police for reviewing it, because until today, NO ONE reviewed any of my stuff! No, B.P., your review didn't sound like a flame, and I really appreciate the mild criticism. I agreed with you, and I believe me, this story will not be like the others. This chapter is dedicated to you both. BTW, I took out the line about the skilled warrior in the last chapter, B.P. I reread it after I saw your review and I agree with you. So the line has been omitted. Please keep reading this, 'cuz I promise that it will _NOT. BE. A. COMMON. MARY. SUE._ I truly think you'll like this.

-Avie

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, but VERY fortunate for everyone else, I don't own Robin Hood or any related characters. Except for Lord Edward and Bridget. But not ol' Rob. He's not mine. So BACK OFF, YOU STUPID LAWYERS!! (pushes her door shut as many lawyers and court officials try to get in, holding court orders and lawsuit papers)

A/N: I don't hate lawyers.

Chapter Two: Marion's Plan

It was night. Marion quickly scrambled out of bed and made her way over to Bridget's.

"Bridget!" she called, her voice a harsh whisper. She shook Bridget gently, but the lady-in-waiting did nothing but mumble and turn over. Marion sighed and rolled her eyes. Why did her only lady-in-waiting have to be such a heavy sleeper?

Marion, on the other hand, was wide-awake, having not slept a wink all night. Leaving Bridget to her rest, she quickly reached under her pillow and pulled out a bundle of badly folded clothes. She shook out the pair of riding breeches and wrinkled her nose slightly at the dirt stains on the fabric, but she removed her silk nightgown and pulled them on. Turning to see her reflection in her tall looking glass, she was dismayed to find that her legs, already thin and lanky, looked even spindlier than before. _Oh, well, _she thought, shrugging. It was better that way.

Her chest hurt a bit, on account of her binding it so tightly. But it was an essential part of her plan. She pulled the tunic over her head. It was so long that it fell almost to her knees, but she left it unbelted. It was dirty, as well, but Marion would have to live with that. She'd paid the stable hand a purse heavy with gold coins before he gave up the outfit, though it was secondhand anyway. For the first time in her life, she was happy that she had inherited her mother's bony figure. She reached down under her bed and pulled out her riding boots. No, they were too fancy. They would never do. She'd have to take a pair of her father's.

Next, she pulled out the bag that she'd packed with some meager provisions, and took from it a short dagger. Taking a handful of her long brown hair, she hacked off the tight waves. She chopped off bunch after bunch, knowing that they were uneven and wincing as they fell to the floor at her feet. She had always worn her hair long, and when she was finished, she noticed that her head felt strangely light. She gathered up the hair and threw it out the window, having thought of no better place to hide it.

Scribbling a hasty note to Bridget, she grabbed her pack, bow, and quiver of arrows and left the room barefooted. After stealing into Lord Edward's room, she took a pair of his myriad boots and put them on, being as quiet as she could. It had taken her three days to conceive this plan, and though she didn't know when her father intended to marry her off, she was desperate. She couldn't risk ruining it now.

Silently, she made her way to the first floor of the castle and headed into the kitchens. She left through the back door and positively sprinted into the forest.

It was Sherwood. Everyone always said it was haunted. And Marion believed in ghosts. She held her bag tightly against her, shivering in the night's wind. She had no idea where she was going, but she was sure she would find somewhere to stay.

Hearing the bushes rustle, she shivered again out of fear. There was something other than ghosts that she was scared of, and that was the notorious Robin Hood and his band of theives. What if they found her roaming their turf? Would they hurt her? Or simply kill her on the spot? If only her father hadn't agreed with the Sheriff.

After she had found out Edward's plans for her future, she had been furious with him, and still was. If he loved her so much, wouldn't he be willing to give up his lands, even if it meant that the only thing he would have gained was his daughter's happiness? She couldn't understand how her own father would agree to marry her to one of the wickedest men in England, perhaps the world. The Sheriff taxed the citizens of Nottingham mercilessly until they could not even afford food, then arrested, tortured, and killed those who resisted, or simply couldn't pay. His greed was monstrous, and Marian loathed him to her very core. She had urged her father many times to do something about the Sheriff, but he feared him as much as the peasants, and so did nothing.

That night was the longest of any in Marian's life. She jumped at every sound, afraid that it was either one of Hood's minions or an unrequited wraith. She walked as far as her feet would carry her, desperate to get as far as possible from the castle. The forest was the first place Lord Edward would look, and she didn't want to be found. Finally, she could walk no longer, and she fell into a deep sleep.

She woke late the next morning with a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. She roused herself and reached into her travel bag. And couldn't find her food. She reached farther. Nothing. Looking around the bag, she saw the dusty ground tattooed with little pawprints. With a small cry, she threw the bag on the ground. Then, an idea came to her. She knew there was deer in the forest. They belonged to King Henry, and her father's cousin would hardly mind if she took one. The King was very fond of her. So she gathered up her bow and an arrow, slung her pack and quiver onto her shoulder, and headed out to hunt. She spent almost half the day searching, growing almost faint with hunger, tripping over tree roots, and scuffing her father's boots, but thenâ€eureka! There was a small clearing, and right in the middle stood a small buck.

Marion almost shouted with joy, but caught herself barely in time. Her fingers were clumsy as she nocked the arrow to the bow. She pulled the bowstring, the arrow shot through the air and hit the buck near its heart. It fell to the ground, dead, but not before Marion heard a loud curse and saw another arrow sticking out of the deer's side.


	3. Of Boys and Men

Marion of Sherwood 

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood. So don't bother me about. I'd get angry. You won't like me when I'm angry.

By the way, I want to thank Miss Piratess once again, sugerplumfairy, and sherwoodkitten. I appreciate your support! By the way, Neggia's twin, I thank you for the review, and am planning already to read that very book. I love Robin McKinley's work, and I do think that you will find the upcoming chapters much better. It has a very cliched start, but later it changes. Just hang in there.

A young man ran into the clearing. His tawny hair reached his shoulders, and Marion reached up and fingered her own wavy hair, now the same length. The man was standing by the deer, staring at her arrow.

"Who shot this bolt?" he demanded, pulling out the arrow and holding it up in a gauntleted hand. He stood there, waiting.

Finally Marion stepped out from the foliage. She held up her bow. "Me, sir!" she called.

The young man grinned. "Nice shot, boy."

Marion beamed. Her disguise was working. Then, he bent over and picked up the deer. "And now I'll be off," he said, slinging it over his shoulder. He began to retreat into the forest once more, but Marion gave a shout and ran toward him. She grabbed the deer's antlers.

"Sir, this is as much my deer as it is yours," she said politely. He turned to look at her.

"Now, lad, you wouldn't have killed the creature on your own," he said, still grinning as if she were a simple fool. Outraged, Marion pulled back her right hand, curled it into a fist, and before she knew what she was doing, she slammed it as hard as she could into his chest.

The blow knocked the air out of him and he gave a strangled cry. He dropped the deer to the grass and grabbed her hand, which she had been staring at in shock. She'd never hit anyone before.

She tried to move away, tried to stammer an apology, but she couldn't. The man was still holding her wrist tightly, so tightly that it defied his appearance. He was slight and only a few inches taller than her, but he was very strong. He glared at her terrified face a moment longer, but then he released her and began to _laugh_.

Marion's mouth dropped open. She had punched him, and he was _laughing_? She couldn't understand. And suddenly, he grabbed her hand again, but this time, he was shaking it. "You're quite right, young man."

Marion rolled her eyes. She had noticed the transition from "boy" to "young man". Funny how it was because she'd hit him. Why was it that men found physical strength a sign of maturity?

The man clapped her on the shoulder. "My name is Will Scarlet," he said. "And you?"

"I – I – I –" Marion stuttered. Oh, why hadn't she thought of an alias before? Groping through her memory, she remembered her father's page. "Thomas," she replied hastily. "Thomas of Nottingham."

"Well, Thomas," Will said, putting the deer back on his slender shoulder, "What say you to coming back with me to my camp? We'll split the deer."

"Of course!" Marion cried, too hungry to think of anything else. She only remembered just in time to get her bag and weapons. Then, she hurried after Will, trying to keep pace with him.


	4. Outlaw Hospitality

Marion of Sherwood

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood.

Marion stayed close behind Will, eager to get to his camp. It was late afternoon, and she was famished. She paid only enough attention to his questions to answer "yes" or "no", but mostly concentrated ion the meal approaching.

Suddenly Will stopped, and she halted just in time to keep from walking into him. They were in a glen circled by oak trees. In the faded sunlight, it seemed to Marion that some of the shadows were moving. Then, she realized that they _were_ moving!

About twenty men stood in the clearing, all dressed in a shade of green that camouflaged them. She heard one man call out, "Food!" Somehow this triggered a reaction from the others, and one man, who looked to be about seven feet tall, asked, "Who's the lad, Will?"

And suddenly, forty eyes were on her.

Marion.

Or rather, Thomas of Nottingham.

Marion was suddenly very conscious of how dirty her clothes were, how unkempt her hair looked, how dirt-smudged her face and hands were. It was going to take her quite some time to become accustomed to being dirty and messy. She had been used to taking baths every day, despite the belief that they made one ill.

One man moved from the shade of a nearby tree and walked up to Marion. He was tall and thin, with a long, straight nose, clad in forest-green. His eyes were dark brown and his hair was a deep gold that brushed his jawline. He stared at her for a long time, and she began to feel uncomfortable. She ran a hand through her reddish-brown hair. "Do you know where you are, boy?" he asked finally.

"In Sherwood Forest," Marion replied.

The man laughed softly. "Aye, but do you know into whose domain you've strayed?"

She shook her head. "No."

The man smiled. "I'm Robin Hood."

Marion's jaw dropped. _This_ was the famous outlaw, known for his notoriety and cunning? Why, she'd always been told he was a giant, able to kill a man with one blow! "You're Robin Hood?" she asked incredulously. "I must say, you aren't frightening at all!"

Robin chuckled at the same time the tall man exploded into gales of laughter. "Frightening, he says!" the unknown man gasped. Robin introduced him as Little John. When he'd calmed down, Little John grinned and shook Marion's hand. "Actually, I'm John Little, but among my men, it's Little John." He clapped Robin on the back. "And Robin's definitely not frightening."

"The boy has spirit," Robin smiled. "Where did you find him, Will?"

"In the clearing a bit West from here," Will replied, putting the deer down in the grass.

Marion couldn't believe it. She had unwittingly stumbled right into the arms of the very people she'd feared. And suddenly a strange thought struck her. They hadn't killed her. They'd been kind, hospitable. And they'd complimented her. They were only men. All those stories...and they were only men.

"Who is he?" asked Robin. He had a quiet voice.

Marion looked him in the eye defiantly. "Thomas of Nottingham," she lied.

Then, there was a deafening silence.

After quite a while, Little John broke it. "Well, I'm hungry. Let's eat!"

There was a sudden bustle of work as the men began preparing dinner. They gathered water to boil, built fires, chopped vegetables, sharpened knives. Marion forgot her hunger and was starting to sneak off when a large hand took hold of her shoulder. She turned to see a squat, plump man dressed in the robe of a friar, a jolly look on his ruddy face.

"Where are you going, lad?" he asked.

"Oh, well, I – " Marion stuttered.

"Come, Thomas. I'm Friar Tuck," the jovial man said, leading her back to the camp. Marion almost laughed. He was at least a head shorter than she was, and the hem of his robe dragged the ground. "You're most welcome to eat with us."

"Well, I should be!" Marion blurted out. "I helped kill it!"

Friar Tuck's eyebrows rose so high that Marion thought they might disappear into his hair. "Did you now? How did you – no, never mind. Tell it while we eat. It should be entertaining."

As the band supped, Marion and Will took turns telling the story, sometimes interrupting each other. When they came to the part about Marion punching Will, the men laughed heartily. Marion, however, blushed with shame.

After they finished eating, they took pity on the "poor lad", and gave Marion a change of clothes like the ones they wore. She now knew that they used the color to hide themselves in the foliage. Robin led her to a cave away from the camp.

"You may change in there, lad," he said, pointing to the entrance. She went inside and changed hurriedly. As she was leaving the cave, she saw a glint of gold on her finger.

"Oh, no," she breathed. She'd forgotten to remove her family ring, which bore her father's seal. She quickly pulled it off her finger. "What shall I do with you?" she whispered staring at it.

Then, an idea came to her. She pulled a loose thread out of her old clothes. Stringing the thread through the ring, she tied it around her neck and slipped it under her new tunic. She went back to the camp and joined the men around the fire. She sat quietly for a long time, staring at the flames that lit up the enclosing darkness. She shuddered to think about being in this enveloping night without a fire.

"So, why are you here?" Robin asked her.

She looked up at him quickly. She had to think about that. She turned her eyes to the shadowy trees to her right, and was just in time to see one of the King's foresters leveling his bow at Robin.

* * *

A/N: OH, I'M EVIL!!! (laughs evilly) I love cliffies! Oh, how I love cliffies! Finally, we meet Rob! What do you think of him? Is it getting better? You may notice I don't follow any set version of Robin Hood, but am pretty much taking my own course with this story. Will isn't related to Robin in any way, neither brother nor nephew. Henry is King, not Richard. That's because Richard led the Third Crusade, and I have a serious grudge against the Crusades, because I believe that Europe had no reason to try to take the land that rightly belonged to the Palestinians, but let's not get into politics. I liked the laughing, good-tempered Little John in Disney's version opposed to the grumpy, quick-to-anger Little John from Howard Pyle's. How can you forget his tricking Prince John, a.k.a. PJ? I love that movie! Neggia's twin, I've started reading "The Outlaws of Sherwood". Isn't McKinley a genius? I also want to thank Miss Piratess (again! But don't take it the wrong way, I appreciate it!), Morwen (I'm guessing you like EFC. But that's just a guess. snickers No, really.), and my little sis Arwen (Love ya, hun!)! Oodelaly!! 


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